Shelter in a Soldier's Arms

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“Do you mean me or Zane?”

“I refuse to answer that,” she said, her voice teasing. “I’ll drop by about seven tomorrow morning to help get the little one ready.”

“Do you think that’s necessary? She seems fairly self-sufficient.” After all, she’d talked him into getting just about everything she wanted at the grocery store.

“Do you really want to deal with getting a four-year-old girl ready for school? I’m talking about picking out clothes and doing her hair.”

He hadn’t thought that part through. “I guess not. Seven sounds fine. I appreciate this, Brenda.”

“I know. I just wish you’d let me go into the field. I’d be great.”

“Your husband would kill me.”

“Probably, but I’d have a fabulous time.”

He tried to imagine his fifty-something assistant slinking along the banks of a Russian river, waiting to make a drop.

Brenda sighed. “I know, I know. I don’t speak any languages, I’m wildly out of shape, but hey, a girl can dream, right?”

“Absolutely. And comfort yourself with the thought that I’d be lost without you.”

“I know.” She chuckled. “See you in the morning, boss.”

“We’ll be here.”

He pushed the “end” button and terminated the call, then went back upstairs so he could return to Ashley’s room and collect the tray.

He found the larger guest room empty and the sound of running water and laughter coming from the bathroom. Jeff quickly picked up empty dishes and set them on the tray. He was nearly out the door when Ashley appeared.

“I thought I heard you return,” she said, leaning against the wall by the bathroom. “Thanks for making dinner. I’m going to give Maggie a bath, then come down with her while she has her dessert. We’ll read for a bit and both be in bed by eight.”

Weariness darkened her eyes and pulled at the corners of her mouth. She was attractive, in a slender, delicate sort of way.

“You look like you could use a good night’s sleep,” he said.

She studied him. “I can’t decide if I should ask you again why you’re bothering, or simply be grateful.”

“How about just thinking about getting well?”

She tilted her head slightly. “My daughter thinks you’re a very nice man.”

“Your daughter is trusting.” Too trusting.

“She hasn’t had a chance to learn otherwise.”

She’d made a statement but he wondered if it was also a warning. As in Don’t teach her differently. Don’t give her a reason not to trust.

Jeff wanted to reassure her that he had no intention of destroying Maggie’s illusions about the world. Time would take care of that, and far too quickly for his taste. Oddly, he liked knowing that somewhere a four-year-old little girl laughed with glee because there were Pop-Tarts and kittens.

“Who are you, Jeff Ritter?”

No one you want to know. But he didn’t say that aloud because it would frighten her. “A friend.”

“I hope so. Good night.”

She turned back to the bathroom. He left her bedroom and walked down to the kitchen where he loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher then thought about fixing dinner for himself. There were sandwich ingredients and frozen dinners, soup, chili and a couple of apples.

But instead of preparing a meal, he walked into the living room and stared out into the night. The light rain had stopped although clouds still covered the sky. Jeff looked into the darkness, trying to ignore the sense of impending doom. He felt the familiar clenching of his gut and knew that trouble lay ahead. As he wasn’t on a mission, he didn’t know what form the trouble would take. Obviously it had something to do with the woman. With Ashley.

Even from this distance, he could sense her in the house. Her soft scent drifted through the air, teasing him, making him wonder how it would feel to be like other men.

His footsteps crunched on the path that led through the center of the village. It was night, yet he could see everything clearly. Probably because of the fire.

The flames were everywhere, licking at the edges of the shabby structures, chasing after the unwary residents, occasionally catching someone off guard and consuming them in a heartbeat.

The fire was alive, fueled by dry timbers and a chemical dreamed up in a lab thousands of miles away. Jeff was familiar with the smell, the heat and the destruction. He hated the fire. It showed no mercy. At times he would swear he heard it laughing as it destroyed.

It was only after he’d gone into the center square of the village that he became aware of the sounds. The crack of timbers breaking as they were consumed, the gunshot sound of glass exploding, the screams of the villagers. The soft crying of a lost child.

He knew this village. Every building, every person. He knew that just beyond the rise in the path was the river. He could walk through the fire again and again and never be touched. Because this village was a part of him, a creation of his mind and he was drawn to it night after night. No matter how he fought against the dream, it pulled him in, sucking him toward hell as surely as the fire crept toward the truck at the edge of the square and caught it in its grasp.

A sharp cry caught his attention. He turned and saw a teenage girl running from a burning building. A support beam creaked and tipped, then fell toward her. Jeff saw it happen in slow motion. He took one step, then another. He reached for the girl, determined to pull her to safety. He put out his hand.

She reached toward him in response. Slowly, achingly slowly, she raised her head until she could see him. Then her mouth opened wider and she screamed as he’d never heard another human being scream before. Sheer, soul-numbing terror.

She jerked away from him and ran toward the river. The support beam tumbled to the ground, narrowly missing her as she fled. Jeff took a step after her. Only then did he notice that all the villagers were racing away from him. They pointed and screamed, acting as if he were a threat worse than the fire.

An aching coldness filled him. Unable to stop himself, he walked toward the river, toward the small pool fed by the flowing water. Fire raged all around him, but he remained untouched by the destruction. People ran past him, screaming, darting out of his way. A mother raced by, a toddler in her arms. The small child cried when he saw Jeff, then ducked his head into the curve of his mother’s neck.

They ran and ran until he was alone. Alone and standing by the pool. And even though he didn’t want to look, he couldn’t help himself. He knelt by the still water and waited for the smoke to clear enough for him to see his reflection.

Then he knew why they ran, why they screamed in terror. He wasn’t a man. Instead of his face, he saw the cold metal features of a mechanical creature. A robot. A metal being not even remotely alive. Fire danced over him, but he couldn’t feel it. Nor did it hurt him. He couldn’t be burned or damaged in any way. He could only terrify…

Jeff woke in a cold sweat, the way he did every night after the dream. There was no moment of confusion. From the second consciousness returned, he knew exactly where he was and what had happened. He also knew he wouldn’t sleep for several hours.

He rose and, in deference to his company, pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt. Then he left his bedroom, prepared to wander through the house like a ghost. Silent, alone, living in the shadows. He tried not to think about the dream, but he was, as usual, unsuccessful. He knew what it meant—that he didn’t see himself as human. That he considered himself little more than a machine of destruction. But knowing the truth of the message wasn’t enough to make it stop.

As he moved down the hall, he felt a change in the night air. Not a disturbance, just something…different. He could sense the presence of his guests.

Unable to stop himself, he headed in the direction of their rooms. Maggie’s door was partially closed. He stood in the hallway and looked in on her.

She slept in the center of the double bed, a small figure guarded by her menagerie of stuffed animals. She was curled up, the blankets tucked around her, sleeping soundly, breathing evenly. A dark curl brushed against her cheek.

He remembered her trust, the sound of her laughter, her delight at the speakerphone in his car. She was a magical child, he thought gruffly, as he noticed one of her fluffy cats had tumbled to the ground. Silently he stepped into her room and put the toy back on the bed. Then, because he couldn’t stop himself, he moved through the connecting bathroom and into Ashley’s room.

Her sleep was more troubled than her daughter’s. She moved under the covers. Her face was slightly flushed, but when he touched her forehead, he didn’t feel any heat.

Who was this woman with no family and such dire circumstances? From what he could observe, she was bright and capable. What had happened to bring her to the place where she needed to depend upon his good graces?

Knowing he wasn’t going to get any answers, he left her room and walked downstairs. In the living room he walked to the windows and stared out into the night. For the first time since he’d moved into the house, he wasn’t alone. How strange. He was always alone. No one came here. Certainly no one had spent the night. When there were women, he visited them. He had an animal’s need to protect its territory. Yet he had been the one to invite Ashley and her daughter here in the first place. What did that mean?

He asked the question and received no answer. So he moved into his study where he turned on his computer. Ashley Churchill intrigued him. So he would find out what he needed with his special programs and secret information. When all was revealed to him she would cease to be anything but a woman and then he could easily let her go.

Chapter Four

The normally silent morning was filled with changes. Jeff stood in his kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee made in a coffeemaker he hadn’t known he owned until he went looking for it a half hour before. Generally he simply got up, showered, dressed and left for the office. He was usually the first one in the building and made coffee when he arrived. He felt strange still being at home when it was almost seven-thirty.

From upstairs came the sound of movement and laughter. Brenda had shown up promptly at seven and was getting Maggie ready for preschool. Jeff glanced at his watch and realized he should check on Ashley before they left. He needed to make sure she would be all right on her own during the day.

He set his coffee mug on the counter then headed for the stairs. Sleep had taken longer than usual to reclaim him the previous night. He’d been unable to forget he had guests in his house. He couldn’t decide if their presence was good, bad or simply different.

He paused outside of Ashley’s door and knocked once. A muffled voice invited him to enter. He stepped inside and found Ashley sitting on the edge of her bed. She looked sleepy and flushed. Her hair was mussed and weariness tugged at her mouth, but she held clothes in her arms as if she planned on getting dressed and starting her day.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Great. Much better. Thanks.”

She was such a lousy liar, he nearly smiled. “Sell it somewhere else. You look dead on your feet and you’re not even standing.”

She brushed her hair off her face. “I have to get up. Maggie has school and so do I. She needs to get dressed and have breakfast. I have my own classes to attend. Plus, you’ve already been so kind. I don’t want to impose any longer.”

Determination stiffened her small frame. She raised her chin slightly, in a gesture of defiance that reminded him of a kitten spitting at a wolf. It looked great and accomplished nothing, except possibly amusing the wolf.

Instead of answering Ashley directly, he called for Brenda to join him.

Brenda bustled into the room. His assistant, a fifty-something blonde of medium height, was dressed in tailored slacks and a silk blouse. She looked efficient and ran his office with the precision and attention to detail of a neurosurgeon at work.

She walked to Ashley and held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Brenda Maitlin. You must be Ashley. Your daughter is such a sweetheart. And you look like death, honey.”

Ashley had responded to Brenda’s greeting by shaking hands with the woman. As Jeff watched, his assistant took the pile of clothes from Ashley and set them on the dresser. She maneuvered the other woman back under the covers and pulled up the blankets.

“Don’t think about anything,” Brenda instructed her. “Just sleep and get better.”

“But I have to get my daughter dressed and take her to school. Then—”

Brenda cut her off with a quick shake of her head. “You don’t have to do a darned thing. Maggie has been fed and dressed. I’m dropping her off at her preschool on my way to the office. Maggie’s sitter, one of her teachers from school, is going to look after her after school at her place.” She paused as if going through a mental list before continuing. “Oh, and a note taker will go to class for you today, so you don’t have to worry about that, either.” She turned to Jeff and beamed. “I think that’s everything.”

Ashley looked stunned. Jeff winked at her. “I know Brenda can be a little overwhelming, but that’s why I hired her. Get the best people possible to do the job.”

Brenda looked at him. “Then I have just two words to say to you. Field work.”

It was an old argument. “I have just one word in response. No. I’d miss you in the office and your husband would kill me.”

She glared at him before stomping out of the room.

Jeff returned his attention to Ashley. “She’s convinced she would make a great spy. I suspect she’s right, but she’s late in starting her training and I doubt her family would approve.”

Ashley looked confused, as if she was having a difficult time following the conversation. Before she could respond, Maggie burst into the room. The little girl was dressed in purple jeans with a matching purple-and-white sweater. Tiny clips held her hair off of her face. She grinned at Jeff before racing to her mother.

“Mommy, Mommy, Brenda came and cooked me breakfast. We had waffles and I ate a whole one. Then we got me dressed and now I’m going to school in her car. She’s got a dog named Muffin and maybe when you feel better we can go visit them.”

“A whole waffle. I’m impressed.” Ashley raised up on one elbow to study her daughter. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Did you sleep well?”

Maggie laughed. “Mommy, I’m fine.” She gave her a quick hug, then dashed out of the room.

Ashley lowered herself back onto the bed. “Thanks for taking care of her. And of me. You’re being very nice.”

“No one has ever accused me of that before.”

“Probably because you didn’t give them reason.”

Her eyes fluttered closed. Her skin looked soft and smooth. He had an instant vision of touching her cheek, then her mouth. The image was so real, his fingertips burned. Suddenly uncomfortable, he took a step back and tried to figure out what to say.

“I’ll be at the office all day,” he told her. “Will you be all right by yourself?”

“Sure. I just need to rest a little more.”

“The kitchen is well stocked. Take whatever you’d like.” He set a business card on the nightstand. “Here’s my number, in case you need it.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes drifting closed. He knew the exact moment she found sleep. For a second he thought about giving in and touching her cheek…just to see if it was as soft as it looked. But he didn’t. Men like him didn’t have physical contact with women like her. Men like him remembered they weren’t the same as everyone else. And if he tried to forget, the dream was a constant reminder.

Ashley rolled over and glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand: 7:01…a.m. She blinked. As in the morning? She sat up with a hastiness that made her head spin. Morning? That wasn’t possible. She last remembered it being seven-thirty in the morning. Had she really slept around the clock?

She threw back the covers and slid to her feet. Aside from a little light-headedness that was probably due to not eating in thirty-six hours, she felt a whole lot better than she had before. But all thoughts of health were pushed aside by the panicky realization she hadn’t seen her daughter since the previous morning.

She flew through the shared bathroom and into the adjoining room. It was empty. Empty! Panic tightened her throat. Dear God, what had happened to her daughter? Her eyes began to burn as tears formed. “Maggie,” she whispered. “Maggie?”

Just was she was about to scream, she heard a faint sound. She spun in that direction and realized it came from downstairs. There was a low rumble of a male voice followed by childish laughter.

Maggie!

Relief flooded her. Ashley hurried into the hall and made her way to the stairs. Ignoring the shaking in her legs and the dizziness that lingered, she ran down the stairs and raced into the kitchen. With one sweeping glance, she saw her daughter sitting at the table and eating a triangle of toast and jam.

“Maggie!”

Her little girl looked up and smiled with delight. “Mommy, you’re up! I wanted to see you last night but Uncle Jeff said you needed to sleep so I was very quiet when I came to say good-night.”

As she spoke, Maggie slid off her chair and hurried to her mother. Ashley took in the mismatched shirt and jeans, the smudge of jam on the girl’s cheek and the crooked clips in her hair. Her heart filled with love as she gathered her close and held her tightly.

“I love you, baby girl,” she murmured, inhaling the familiar scent of her child.